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BEATEN AND RETURNED

Beaten and returned,
You’ve been beaten now returned to hold out your hand and ask me for a grand.
Beaten and returned,
No more wiser, nuthin learned.
What the others knew was out of reach for you.

Beaten and returned,
Once determined, now absurd,
Breech birth, you were born to follow not to lead.
Beaten and returned,
All distractions, no concerns:
When the going got tough, you said you'd had enough.

Where ya gonna go now?
Whatcha gonna do next?
Whatcha gonna now tell yourself to minimize this wreck?
I heard a knock on my door,
An imbecile, a wet grin.
I grabbed my wallet and my wacky weed,
My patience is reluctant and thin.
We both knew you’d never win.
A left jab or two would tastefully suit that chump chin.

But I can hear your family members sighing.
Uncomfortably staring at the floor.
Bottles empty, bills accrue, the broken glass leads straight to you,
Your wasted past has bit you on the ass!

Didn’t save any dough,
Never reached any goals.
Have you found a way to tell yourself,
The sun don't shine from your poopiehole?
I heard a knock on my door,
An imbecile, a wet grin.
I grabbed my wallet and my wacky weed,
My patience is reluctant and thin.
We both knew you'd never win.
Some hot tar and feathers would surely look good on your skin.

Beaten and returned, beaten and returned.

 

C & P Copyright Chris Giunta 2011

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